Aragorn Gets Brainwashed
by MidenianScholar
Summary: When two minds think alike...you'd better run. Denethor's hurts Faramir, Faramir needs help, a portal is used, and Aragorn is brainwashed.
1. It's the Rugs' and Siarl's Fault

_A/N: The following is the result of two random and often frightening minds getting together. This happens a few times a week, and most of those times an adventure will result. Here is one such adventure. We do not own any of the characters, except Siarl and Hainor, and Jo and Lisa, since those are the Code Names for the authors. Written with the influence of Vintage Blue. Go check out her site! And now, on with the show..._

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**Aragorn Get's Brainwashed  
Chapter 1.2232 : It's The Rugs' And Siarl's Fault**

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It was a wonderfully bright, cheerful day, when Jo found herself in Gondor. Bird sang, the sun smiled, and somewhere large speakers where playing wonderful bluegrass music. Jo heaved a happy sigh and could almost forget where the music came from (better left unsaid in this tale), or who lurked within the palace-building-thing-which-was-blaring-white-against-her-unprotected-eyes.

Suddenly, a well-known Steward, who is called Denny by all who fear him, appeared beside her, muttering, "Rugsrugsrugs." (Said Steward has an obsession with rugs, and often forces his wonderful younger son to slave for the floor décor.)

Jo jumped and screamed.

Denny ignored the scream and informed her of the following fact: "Did you know that 9.984572 of rugs have nightmares about CERTAIN unwanted sons?" (Denny has a grudge against the Wonderful Younger Son, due to the fact that WYS tends to "kill" his rugs. How he does that, none of us know.)

"Oh gee," groaned Jo.

Nodding, Denny continued, "Yup, this is a bad dilemma. We must see to it that all rugs are safe—but, then again, we don't want to… get on the bad sides of people about putting a certain son… out of commission." (Half the city, and some fans, too, would devour Denny if he dared to kill the Wonderful Younger Son.)

Jo made an irritated sound. She had been through this before. Many times. And it normally did not end well.

"But I think," Denny proclaimed, "for the rugs around the world's safety, we should choose the latter." (i.e. punish the Wonderful Son)

"Why don't we put the annoying psycho Steward out of commission?" Jo asked the sky.

"I never heard of one," Denny said, and wondered why Jo insisted on talking to clouds. "But I do think we should take this _crime_ into the light of justice and punish the criminal."

Jo snorted. Denny called up his councilors. Then, in a yell that would wake the Great Eye from its midmorning nap, Denny shouted, "FARAMIR, COME HERE NOW, PLEASE."

"Yoi," muttered the Wonderful Younger Son, who we now know is Faramir. He came obediently to his father.

"Thank you for coming the first call. It is a small improvement."

Faramir proceeded to roll his eyes and wonder why _he_ couldn't have gone to Rivendell and let his older, not so wonderful brother deal with their crazy dad. But on second thought, he figured he didn't wish that, because Bor was just about as bad as their father in many areas.

"But THAT is not needed, young man. You still need to practice _respect._"

"Respect?" Jo choked. "To YOU?" She then died laughing.

Denny glared at her (she wasn't _really_ dead). "You could use some work, too."

"Really."

"Yes." He waved his hand. "But we're not here to discuss your manners, Faramir and Jo." He raised his voice so the councilors could here. "The reason I called you all here is to punish that which is causing disturbance and discomfort for some of our most important citizens."

"What?" Faramir blinked twice.

Denny ignored him. "This guy—" he waved at Far—"has been tormenting those who we hold in high honor."

"The RUGS are held in HIGH HONOR?" Jo cried.

Denny was good at ignoring. "I propose that these actions be punished, immediately." All the councilors, who knew of their lord's tilt in the head, were quick to agree. "The normal punishment is…" Denny paused to consider, "…to be lowered in rank, and to be held in the dungeon with limited food for a week."

"WHAT?" Faramir cried.

Everyone applauded, except one meek councilor. But Denny gave him a glare that would have melted the One Ring, and the councilor quickly agreed that the punishment was perfect. Motioning to two guards, Denny had Faramir dragged away.

Jo followed Faramir to his cell, were he was to be beaten before locked up for the week. Lisa, her good friend who always joins in their crazy adventures, appeared to comfort her soon into the torture.

It was a very long time before Faramir stumbled out (why exactly he was allowed to leave his cell, we are not sure). He fell into a heap at their feet, and both girls ran to him, despite the guards who tried to stop them. Faramir was in extreme pain and cried out for a blond girl several times (the reason is unknown). The girls rummaged in their backpacks for something that would help.

"I have an Eowyn bobble-head!" Lisa announced.

Jo said that probably wouldn't help and produced a portal. **Portal**: A device for traveling long distances in a matter of seconds. They come in many different shapes and sizes. The one in this story looks like a remote and talks to you. But it generally only cooperates if it is fed chocolate.

"Where should we take him?" Lisa asked.

"Um, home? McDonalds?" Jo suggested.

"MCDONALDS?" Lisa tried not to gag. "I think home would be better. My house or yours?"

"Yours. Eowyn's probably cooking at my house, and it'd be bad if that was Far's first introduction to her."

Lisa made a face and agreed. She gave the portal chocolate and directions to her house. The guards looked uneasily at each other and wondered why a girl was talking to a stick. Once the portal was satisfied, Lisa jabbed the GO button, and the next thing they knew they were seated in her livingroom.

"Did we make it?" Jo asked, panting. Portals have a way of dropping you where you don't want to go.

"Yes!" Lisa announced, looking relieved. "Thank goodness."

"Hey, there you are!" said a familiar and annoying voice. "My chess set came today!"

Jo made an extremely irritated sound and banged her head on the coffee-table. The voice belonged to none other than Lisa's infamous character, Siarl, who happened to be obsessed with chess and who was known for causing bad luck.

"Blast you, Siarl!" Lisa explained. "Can't you see he's wounded?" She motioned toward Faramir.

"Yeah, really," Jo put in.

"So… Am I supposed to do anything about this…wounded guy?"

Jo looked confused. "Um, I dunno… What DOES one do with wounded people? Is anyone here a healer?"

Siarl jumped in. "What about that Aragorn character?" Siarl had met with him once or twice before, and they got along well enough, which is cause for fear. "Could he help?

"SIARL, YOU'RE A GENIUS!" Jo exclaimed. (She later came to regret it.)

"Really? Cool!"

Jo slapped her forehead. "Why didn't _I_ think of that? I was just talking about the Houses…"

"Let's get him, and quick!" Lisa shouted. "Should we just call 'im, or use the portal?"

The girls pondered a minute. Siarl looked from one to the other and then cleared his throat. "You could let me go and get him."

"Okay," said Jo. Little did she know what she had just agreed to.


	2. From Tethel To Numbers, erm, Númenor

_A/N: This is just a piece of humor and drama. The characters may or may not stay close to canon. We do not own any of them, except Siarl, Jo and Lisa. Laugh, then read and review!_

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**Aragorn Gets Brainwashed**

**Chapter 2.3431 : From Tethel To Numbers--erm, Númenor**

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Siarl was eager and excited as he approach Jo's house. He still was surprised that they had actually given him the portal, especially after the _last_ adventure. But he was determined he would get Aragorn and bring him back to the bleeding-guy-on-the-floor.

There was a man smoking with a boll of purple-ish mush beside him (Eowyn had been at him again for not eating enough) outside of the house. Siarl approached him.

"Hey, do you know where I might find Aragorn?"

The man looked at him oddly. "That would be me…" He wasn't sure he really wanted to be identified with Siarl again, so he added, "I think…"

"Oh, helkith!" Siarl said happily, using his country's term of hello. "I'm Siarl Finish, a soldier."

"Uh… hi." Aragorn sounded anything but enthusiastic.

"Jo and Lisa want you," Siarl went on. "There's a guy bleeding to death in Lisa's living room."

Aragorn dropped his pipe. "WHAT?"

Siarl thought hard. "'Faramir', I think it was… Or maybe just 'Far'?"

"WHAT?" Aragorn exclaimed again.

"I think some Denny guy punished him 'cause he was hurting rugs or something…"

"Oh NO," Aragorn groaned. "Take me there, quick."

Siarl complied. He told the portal to take them back and pushed the GO button.

But he forgot the chocolate.

There was a huge flash, and Siarl found himself standing in the middle of a city, Aragorn beside him.

"Ow, that was bright," muttered Aragorn, rubbing his eyes and blinking repeatedly.

_This isn't Lisa's house,_ thought Siarl, puzzled. Then he saw the sign they were standing in front of and almost jumped out of his skin. "Oh dear!"

"What?" asked the ranger.

"We're in Tethel." He pointed to the sign, which read: WELCOME TO THE NAMELESS CAPITOL OF TETHEL. (Siarl's enemy country, which would just love to kill some nice Midenian soldier.)

"We're WHERE?" Aragorn demanded.

Siarl started yelling at the portal and commanding it to take them back to Lisa's house. Enemy soldiers were running at them with shouts of: "STOP THERE!" and "THAT ONE'S MIDENIAN!" and "GET 'EM!" All of which are not good things to say about our main characters.

Siarl jabbed the GO button again, hoping that it would work. There was another blinding flash…

"That was close," panted Aragorn.

Siarl heaved a sigh and leaned against the stone wall at his back. "Yeah."

"Now, where are we?" Aragorn began to look around. His face suddenly paled. "Wait…"

"What is it?" Siarl asked, seeing nothing familiar about the circle-shaped, roofless room they were in.

"Armenelos?" Aragorn whispered.

"What? _Where_?" asked Siarl, lost and confused.

"The capital of Numenor," Aragorn informed him, still looking worried. "But what's this…building we're in?"

Siarl looked back up at the open sky above them. "Don't ask me, I've never heard of it." A seagull flew overhead and he instinctively ducked, just in case it might drop something on his head.

"OH NO!" Aragorn suddenly cried—though not at the seagull.

"What?" Siarl turned on him. "What is it?"

Aragorn looked as if he was going to be sick, or paralyzed, or maybe like he thought he'd just seen Isildur as an undead pirate. "This is Sauron's temple to Melkor." Seeing Siarl's uncomprehending expression he tried to elaborate. "They, uh…" he swallowed. "They sacrifice the Faithful here."

Gulping, Siarl looked around again. "How do we get out?"

"Uh…run?" Aragorn suggested hopelessly.

"But there are wall on all sides, and no door—least, not that I can see," Siarl informed him.

"Oh darn. Then we… wait until someone comes in?"

"I guessss," Siarl agreed uncertainly.

Aragorn rethought his advice. "Except… I don't know if we'd want to be here when they come in."

"I was just thinking that," Siarl added quickly, in order to sound smarter than he felt. "…And the portal's not working," he added.

"It isn't?" Aragorn sounded dismayed.

"Well…" Siarl inspected it. "It says, 'New Battery Needed'."

"OH NO!" Aragorn cried again.

Siarl tried to sound optimistic. "There wouldn't be any "360 Hist" batteries here? Right?"

"Riiiight."

Ominous footsteps echoed outside the wall. Siarl looked toward the sound. "Someone's coming."

Aragorn groaned.

An interestingly dressed man came in. He had a McDonalds hat on, and a dead bird slung over his soldier. His uniform consisted of gold and Navy-blue colors. We can only assume this was one of Sauron's guards or priests.

Siarl had never seen such an outfit. He stared openly. "Woah, weird clothes…"

The man saw them and dropped his bird. "Excuse me!" he snapped at Siarl. "What are you DOING? WHO ARE YOU?" The man's voice rose to a squeak. "Defiling the Holy Place!"

"Well…" Siarl fumbled for words. The squeaky, oddly-dress man was quite a sight. "We, uh… It was an accident…?"

"I'm sure it was," the man said evenly.

"Really," Aragorn put in quickly. "We'll be, uh, going now…"

"Yeah," added Siarl. "We'd be happy to leave."

The man—his name was Stanley, so that's what we'll call him from now on—frowned and picked up his bird. "I don't think you will be." Stanley glanced at Aragorn for the first time. Then he seemed to jump a little and looked closer. Siarl looked from one man to the other, not sure what was going on.

Stanley's eyes narrowed. "Are you any relation to the traitor Elendil of Andunnie?"

"Umm," said Aragorn nervously. "Heh."

Siarl was quick to help his new friend. "Actually, he's related to this guy—Elvish? No, no, _Elvis_!"

Aragorn telepathed Siarl: _SIARL! SHUT UP! _

Stanley's eyes now looked Asian, they were narrowed so much.

_Oops,_ thought Siarl, sure he'd just made a big mistake. And he was right, he had.


	3. Things Get Pretty Bad

_A/N: This is just a piece of humor. If the characters are close to canon, it's probably just coincidence. We do not own any of them, except Siarl, Jo and Lisa. Laugh, then read and review!_

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**Aragorn Gets Brainwashed**

**Chapter 3.9284 : Things Get Pretty Bad**

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"You admit you are one of the traitorous Elf-friends, then?" Stanley demanded.

Aragorn looked extremely uncomfortable. "Ummm… did I say that? Anyway, I think I… have to—go."

"Yeah," Siarl pitched in, "Lisa and Jo are going to kill us if we let—uh—if we are late for dinner."

Stanley was beginning to get an evil look in his eye. "Well, you won't have to worry about them killing you."

"I meant that as a figure of speech."

"I think I will have to speak to the Lord Sauron about you," Stanley announced. He then disappeared out of the stone door in the wall.

"Now what?" Siarl groaned. Aragorn remained broodingly silent. Siarl sighed and stood, trying to find the door, which was now invisible again. Eventually he tired of that and sat again.

"So, you think this Sauron guy's going to execute us?" Siarl asked Aragorn after the silence had gotten thick enough to eat with toast.

"Knowing him, he'll probably try." Aragorn wished he had toast; toast is always good when you're going to be executed.

"I guess we should have a plan ready, then," Siarl offered.

"Yeah. A plan." Aragorn obviously didn't have one.

Siarl studied the sky. "How do they perform the sacrifices, exactly?"

Shrugging, Aragorn said, "I'm not sure. I've never witnessed one." He winced. "I hope they don't set the sacrificial victims on fire."

"Hmm. You still have your sword, right?"

"Yes…"

"And I have mine…"

"You have a sword?" Aragorn interrupted.

Siarl looked at him as if he had just asked an exceedingly dumb question. "Of course."

"Oh. Right." Aragorn took his turn studying the clear, blue sky. After a few minutes of this he asked Siarl for the portal and began fiddling with it, trying to get the battery to work.

Footsteps began to resound through the walls (yes, footsteps can do such things if they are inclined to try). Siarl started to draw his sword.

"I wish I had a crystace about now," Aragorn muttered. **Crystace: **A super cool lightsaber-like weapon used in the _Firebird_ series by Kathy Tyers.

"Um, right," Siarl looked confused.

The door opened and Stanley came in. "Hi."

Siarl was fascinated by the invisible-but-not-invisible door. "Hi."

Stanley straightened his shirt a little, sure Siarl was staring at something on his uniform. "You will follow me. Don't try to escape. It's futile."

"Alright," Siarl said in an almost cheerful voice. Stanley looked at him oddly. "…What?"

"Silence," snapped Stanley.

Siarl rolled his eyes dramatically.

Stanley turned a sort of pale-ish-purple color. "Did you just…"

"Sure did," he replied happily. "And I wouldn't mind doing it again."

"Would you enjoy being pulled limb from limb?" Stanley asked evenly.

"No," Siarl admitted thoughtfully. "But better to speak what I think then let my tongue rot." (now, how rolling his eyes could be called "speaking", we don't really know)

Stanley glared his squinty-glare-of-Doom, which actually wasn't as impressive as all his friends told him.

Siarl studied him a few minutes. "Well, are you going to stand here all day chit-chatting—which, actually, I would not mind—or are you going to lead us somewhere?"

The Glare of Doom grew heavier and even less Doom-like.

"Perhaps he _would _like to stand around for a while," Aragorn said. He had now stood.

"Yes," Siarl agreed, "I think that's what that look means."

"Perhaps we can do something about that." Aragorn voice-commanded, "Stay there."

Siarl grinned. Stanley looked slightly puzzled, as he had not yet figured out what had happened.

"Let's go," said Aragorn. He then walked past Stanley.

"WAIT!" Stanley shouted, finally realizing he could not move. "YOU CAN'T—"

Siarl ignored him, following Aragorn. "Where can we go? I'm afraid I don't know the layout of this land."

"Me neither," said Aragorn thoughtfully.

"Do you think this guard guy might have a map?" Siarl motioned at the once-again-pale-ish-purple Stanley.

Aragorn looked at the man only briefly. "Maybe. But I don't think we want to stick around here long enough to check. Someone could get here any moment."

"True, let's go."

"Yes. And we need to find some way to power this thing up." He patted the portal.

Siarl nodded and passed Stanley. As he did, he gave a friendly wave. "It was nice meeting you. Hope we can chat again soon.

The Glare of Doom was shot at him, but had no effect.

Aragorn and Siarl went down the stairs. It was noted by Siarl that there would be a nasty fight if they were caught in the stairwell with nowhere to go, so they resolved to get down as quickly as possible. As they neared the bottom, it was possible to hear a drunken soldier singing something about the song that never ends. Another soldier was trying to rouse his friend to go look for their captain, who apparently had disappeared upstairs.

"I don't drink on duty, and I don't want to loose my skin," the second, non-drunk guard said. "I'm going up, are you comin' or not?"

_LET'S GET OUT OF HERE NOW,_ Aragorn shouted mentally at Siarl. Siarl was extremely lucky, for once, and happened to bump into one of those invisible doors at this exact moment. The door creaked open and both men ran into the room it revealed.

_THANK ERU!_ Aragorn thought, very relieved. He leaned back against the wall and tried not to pant. Siarl stayed by the door, watching the hallway through a small crack he'd kept open.

"Fine, FINE!" the drunk soldier mumbled. "I'll come. Let's just make it quick." He talked with surprisingly good English for being so drunk.

Footsteps came toward the two hiding main characters. Siarl closed the door a little more.

"Hmm," said a muffled voice. "Did you hear something?"

"Nope. I think you're over reacting."

"SHHH! Listen, will ya?"

Aragorn stopped breathing.

"…Did you hear that?"

"I heard rats."

Aragorn began sweating.

"FOOL! Your drinking has dulled your senses! _Listen._"

"Ohhh… Do you mean that squeaking we heard a second ago?"

"YES."

_Yeah, the squeaking, _Aragorn tried to influence their thoughts.

"I think it was rats."

_It was rats. Definitely rats._

There was the sound of someone slapping someone.

"OUCH! What was that for!"

"DEAF FOOL! CAN'T YOU RECOGNIZE A DOOR CLOSING WHEN YOU HEAR IT?"

_Oh DANG._

"…Maybe it was just the captain…?"

_Yeah. The captain. Definitely the captain._

"Nono! If it was we would be hearing footsteps and commands right now instead of silence."

_Maybe he fell asleep._

"Maybe he fell asleep…?"

_Cool! _Aragorn thought of just how far he could take his new-found power.

Slap. "WHY ON ARDA WOULD HE FALL ASLEEP ON THE MOST IMPORTANT DAY OF HIS LIFE?"

Aragorn wondered why today was particularly important.

"_AND_ WHILE HE WAS LEADING CRIMINALS, TOO! DON'T YOU HAVE A BRAIN MAN—" The man stopped. Then he cursed. "The prisoners! They must have escaped!"

Aragorn went back to holding his breath.

The other guard muttered, "That's not good. Maybe we should…look around?"

The first guard ran past Siarl and Aragorn's room, not bothering to answer. According to the noise it was assumed that he was going to find the captain.

However, the drunk soldier went slower. He stopped right outside their room. "Hmm," he mused. "there's a crack in the wall."

Aragorn shut his eyes tight.

The man touched the door. Siarl bit his lip, holding it partly shut still. Suddenly the man gave the door a shove.

_HOLD IT, SIARL! _

Siarl tried to hold it firmly, but it quaked at the resistance.

"Hmm." The drunk man studied it a moment. Then he drew a deep breath. "HEY, TIMMY, I THINK I FOUND THEM!"

It seemed like the other soldier—apparently Timmy—was back down the stars in less than a minute. "Where!"

"In there."

_Oh no! NOW WHAT? _Aragorn wracked his brain for an idea.

Timmy shoved against the door. Siarl put all his weight against it, trying to hold it shut. Aragorn ran to help, while at the same time the drunk guard started helping his friend. A war over the door ensued. Then suddenly the guards stopped pushing. Aragorn and Siarl both got where thrown off balance, and were thus unstable when the guards threw themselves against the door and the door opened.

Aragorn whipped out Anduril.

"Hold it!" Timmy shouted. He had his sword already drawn and pressed against Siarl's chest.

"Release him, or I'll cut your throat," Aragorn growled.

Frodo suddenly appeared with them. "HEY! PLAGIARIST!"

"Oops…" Aragorn blinked twice.

Frodo snarled. Aragorn told him to get lost. Frodo disappeared again.

Timmy quickly regained himself. "I'll not release him until you have surrendered."

"And what do you plan to do with us once we've surrendered?" Aragorn asked. "Something tells me I don't want to face that."

"You've been summoned to see and be judged by Lord Sauron."

"Hmm. Guessed as much."

Timmy pressed his sword against Siarl's chest. "Lower your sword."

Reluctantly Aragorn let Anduril's tip drop, but he kept a tight grip on it.

"Drop it."

"No."

The sword was starting to pierce through Siarl's shirt. "You're killing him."

Aragorn swallowed nervously. Despite the fact that he and Siarl were loose friends, he also knew that Lisa would have his head if he allowed her character to die.

"Drop it. Now."

Aragorn hesitated.

Blood began to form on Siarl's shirt. He closed his eyes and gulped.

Anduril clattered to the floor. Aragorn was unarmed.


	4. The Orange Haired Sauron

_A/N: This is a piece of random humor. If the character are close to canon, it's probably coincidence. We don't own anyone, except Siarl, Jo and Lisa. Enjoy, laugh, and review, or else I'll give you the Squinty Glare of Doom._

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**Aragorn Is Brainwashed  
**Chapter 4.3421 : The Orange-Haired Sauron

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The soldiers threatened both Siarl and Aragorn until they allowed themselves to be taken away.

"Where are you taking us?" Aragorn asked again.

"I told you," snapped Timmy, "to Lord Sauron."

"You needn't bother," Aragorn informed him "He won't be looking for me for a few thousand more years."

Timmy looks slightly confused but turned the expression skillfully into a glare. "We would like to save him the time."

"Ah, but the pursuit would not be half so interesting," our ranger encouraged.

"It's his choice, not ours."

"Is it really?" he tried again.

"Yes."

Aragorn made an annoyed sound and gave up. The rest of their walk to the throne room was largely uneventful. Siarl started to try and bribe his way out with a chess-set at one point (which is actually shocking, since he is very protective of his sets), but it had no effect on the men, who had never heard of chess and rather liked their heads more than a game.

Finally they came to a set of large, hot pink doors on which golden dandelions were painted (if you would like to understand this inside joke, you must talk to Pippin). The doors swung open ominously and Timmy called, "My Lord Sauron, we have them."

"Enter," said a deep and Darth-Vador-like voice.

Aragorn tried not to shake in utter terror. Siarl wondered if Sauron would take the chess set.

Our two heroes were shoved in and the guards left. _AHHH! _thought Aragorn. _I'M ALONE IN A ROOM WITH SAURON!_

_Not alone, _Siarl told him. _…Completely._

_Oh. Right. WE'RE alone in a room with Sauron._

Sauron, who at this time had two eyes, a nose, mouth, and any other normal feature a normal human being would own, studied Aragorn darkly. He (Sauron) had blondish-reddish hair, not at all what one would expect, and surprisingly black eyes (he later tried to keep up his look with the whole "eye of fire" thing, which was actually much more impressive that his current appearance). Despite the odd hair and eyes, he was rather attractive for someone as evil as himself. But neither of our male characters really noticed that, as they were both not inclined to think of other males as attractive.

Aragorn clenched his jaw, but eventually was forced to meet Sauron's eyes by the pressure they put on him. He was very surprised by the whole orange-hair-black-eyes thing we have previously described, and couldn't help staring. Sauron looked him up and down, then his eyes narrowed. (Sauron's narrow-eyed-glare is much more nerve-wracking than Stanley's.) Aragorn bit his lip.

Without saying anything, Sauron took a look at Siarl. Siarl was surprised by how much the man reminded him of a dragon he had once been in contact with, and immediately he was terrified (any mention of dragons—or slugs—has a way of unnerving Siarl).

Sauron turned back to Aragorn. "Tell me, what is your name?"

Aragorn considered this a moment. "Estel, I am called by some."

The elvish name was not lost on Sauron's highly educated and working ears. "Have I seen you before?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Sauron gave him a level, glare-ish look before turning to a glass at his elbow. It looked like it held wine, but Siarl later said it was more like Cool Aid. "My men say you were found in the Highest Lord Melkor's sacred place. Is this true?"

"Yes," Aragorn said bluntly.

"And what, may I ask, where you doing there?"

"Trying to get out."

Sauron raised a blond-and-nearly-invisible eyebrow, then took a sip of his drink. "Why were you there in the first place?"

"It was an accident."

"I'm sure." The lord fingered his cup. "Do you realize that one man—much less two—could never make it past the many guards I have guarding that place? How do you explain that?"

"Time warps and mental capabilities."

Sauron once again raised one eyebrow. "Now I feel we are getting somewhere. Explain further."

Aragorn tilted his head slightly. "I don't believe I will."

"You will if you—or your friend, Siarl's—life mean anything," Sauron threatened darkly.

Aragorn was, amazingly, unfazed. "Tell me this: since when do the Maiar need food or drink?" **Maiar: **You poor souls don't know what that is? You can find out in the _Silmarillion_. In short: it's basically a spirit, an angel. Sauron happens to be one of them.

Back home, reading this story, many fans gave a whoop at Aragorn's smart comeback.

Sauron glared openly. "I am no Maiar."

"Oh yes, you are," Aragorn said firmly. "I know more than you think."

Sauron waved his hand dismissively. "It makes no difference, seeing as if I find both of you unuseful you will be dead within an hour."

"Unuseful?" Aragorn said sarcastically. Living in the same house as Legolas (many of our characters stay at Jo's house, we're not sure why), the grammar nut, had taught him some things.

"No use to my needs," Sauron clarified.

"Really."

Sauron started playing with his cup again. "Explain 'time warps and mental capabilities' to me, or sacrifice yourselves."

"Explain what you've been doing to the king," Aragorn countered.

"I am only helping the king see the truth."

"I'm sure you are. It's the correct Truth, I do hope."

"It is," Sauron said firmly.

Aragorn popped out his elvish knowledge. "I Lhen I na vi Eru." the the God

Sauron caught himself about to glare and remained calm, cool and collected. "You look tired. Here, sit down. Have a drink."

"I am disinclined to acquiesce your offer."

"I insist." Sauron's voice was slightly threatening. "Sit. Please." He motioned to two chairs.

Aragorn slowly sat, Siarl following his example. Our ranger eyed Sauron warily, ready for whatever trick was coming. Sauron clapped and two slaves appeared, pouring both our characters drinks.

"Here, drink," Sauron commanded.

"No," said Aragorn.

Sauron's tone became honey-sweet. "Please, it's a custom here to drink what your host serves."

"I am sorry, I do not drink."

The red-haired man sounded convincing. "It's not ale, just water, as you can plainly see."

"I don't trust your water."

Waving his hand, Sauron said, "Come now, let's not get edgy. You've nothing to fear here."

"Oh, really," Aragorn said, his tone hinting at sarcasm.

"Really," Sauron assured.

"I don't trust you."

"There's no need to distrust here. We are seated as equals, both nearly at the other's mercy." Sauron sipped his own drink, and somehow our two characters felt dry as dust just watching. "Go on," the lord insisted, "I can tell you're thirsty."

"I am not thirsty," Aragorn said evenly, "nor do I see us as 'equals.'" Siarl, however, was watching his glass with a tempted expression. Aragorn noticed and poked him. To Sauron, he continued, "Nor do I see you as 'at my mercy.'"

Three girls were brought out. "Perhaps it's entertainment that you seek then? Aren't they lovely?"

"Not particularly," Aragorn said blatantly.

The girls disappeared. "Then what is it you seek, if not drink or entertainment, by coming to Numenor?"

"I wasn't seeking anything. I told you, it was a complete accident. Although I have, perhaps, found the deepest desire of many of my kin."

"By 'accident' you say, and by 'portals' and 'mind,' but still you have yet to explain further."

"I have."

"Then do so."

"Not to you."

"And why not?" Again Sauron sounded very genuine. "I am the highest trusted of the king and the people."

"If you can buy your supposed 'trust' by force, yes," Aragorn said, appearing slightly mad—or something akin to that emotion. "In any case, I know you better than you think, and I find every reason not to trust you."

Sauron slowly and purposefully set down his glass in a way that made both Aragorn and Siarl feel apprehensive. In a deep voice that was calm, yet terribly frightening he said, "I've tried to give you a chance, tried to let you both use the ease way, but it seems you are determined to die no matter what I do, and so you shall." He sighed. "But being the merciful man I am, I'm willing to give you one more chance."

"Merciful," Aragorn choked. "Ha."

Leaning forward, Sauron locked eyes with our ranger. "Tell me, how did you really get here, and what is this talk of 'portals' and 'mind influence.'"

Aragorn did not waver. "No."

Sauron continued to stare into his eyes. Then he sent in a small probe (i.e. tried to enter his mind). Aragorn jerked back, unprepared and disgusted. Sauron smirked and pressed it. Though Aragorn tried to stop him, Sauron overpowered him and got in. Our ranger started gagging from the feeling of Sauron in him.

The probe extended as Sauron searched through Aragorn's memories. Panting and trying to swallow down the nausea, Aragorn attempted to get his wit back. He realized that Sauron was looking over the Council of Elrond. With a sudden burst of energy, Aragorn wrenched his mind away from Sauron.

The room materialized around him again (rooms have a way of disappearing when you're fighting an inward battle). Sauron was watching him, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Impressive, Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

Aragorn winced, sure this was the end of the road.

Sauron continued, "But I've only just begun your test." Then he plunged back into Aragorn.

The latter choked and came to a decision: His memories were too precious. _This could be the end of me, but…_

And he placed a memory block.


	5. Results of Memory Blocking Turn Out Bad

_A/N: This is a darling piece of humor in which the characters likely will not be anything close to canon. We don't own anyone, except Siarl, Jo and Lisa._

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**Aragorn Gets Brainwashed  
Chapter 5.343131 : The Results of Memory Blocking Turn Out Badly **

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Siarl caught Aragorn as he suddenly collapsed forward. "Aragorn! Aragorn are you alright?" All he got was coughs for his trouble. Carefully he helped his friend back into the chair. "You… okay?"

Aragorn looked around, gasping gently. "I…" He tried to sit up more, gasping again.

"You alright?" Siarl asked again, very worried.

Aragorn choked. "I—I—I can't—"

Siarl helped him sit right.

The ranger put a hand to his head, looking lost. "It's… it's gone…"

"What is?" asked Siarl.

"Everything…my life…my memories…I can't remember anything beyond the past two months."

_JUST GREAT! _thought Siarl. He was stuck with a crazy, orange-haired freak and an amnesic ranger.

Speaking of orange-haired freaks: Sauron frowned faintly for half a moment, but quickly changed the expression to extreme concern. He rose and placed a kind hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "I could help with that, dear one, if you will let me."

Aragorn wrenched away.

As impossible as it seemed to Siarl, he suddenly thought Sauron looked like the friendliest fellow he had ever met—someone who had nothing but a heart full of Care Bears.

"I only wish to help you," Sauron said gently. "I can restore your memories, if only you will let me help."

"No," said Aragorn quickly.

"What have I done to you that I deserve such an ill manner from you?" Sauron asked, sounding hurt. "What have I done that you would dislike me so? Why do you hate me, Aragorn?"

"You—" Aragorn stopped, blinking.

"…Nothing? You can't remember, can you? I was like a father to you, before Jo took you away from your home cruelly to make you entertainment for her and her friends, doing the same to many of your friends. I've long searched to find you and now you have returned home to me."

Siarl was shocked. He'd never thought Jo would do such a thing. And he didn't think Aragorn was Sauron's son.

"No…" Aragorn struggled. "That's…that's…"

"It is the truth," Sauron said assuredly. He looked over Aragorn with a sad expression. "She took you and placed false memories of me, and others whom you once loved, all to make herself look better."

Aragorn shook his head numbly. "She…She's not… gifted."

"A lie that is, also. All to make herself look good."

"I don't…" Aragorn tried to think, but felt completely empty.

Sadly, Sauron said, "Come, we will restore your memory so that you can see rightly, again. Come, son."

Sauron helped Aragorn to his feet. The latter cast a lost look to Siarl.

_Don't go, Aragorn! _Siarl told him. Something in Sauron's eyes reminded Siarl of a dragon we mentioned before, and he didn't like it. _He's not—I mean—Jo wouldn't do those things to you._

"Don't listen to this imposter," Sauron cut in, "her friend—Lisa—sent him, didn't she? They're in this together, and he only wishes to keep you from the truth." Aragorn swallowed nervously. "Come," Sauron insisted gently, "let us revive your memory."

_I Lhen na vi Eru…_ Thought Aragorn as he was lead out. He did not know what caused the thought—or even what it meant—but he suddenly had a feeling this was all very wrong. "No—I don't want—"

Sauron paused slightly, sighing mournfully. "Dear son, they seem to have done more than I first expected. Come, quickly, for I fear that whatever they did will soon start its horrible work in your mind and body."

"Wha…?"

"Come, please. I fear it might be fatal."

Instinct still told Aragorn this was dangerous. "I…"

Sauron took his elbow and lead him along. "They've dulled you senses, I see. We must hurry."

There was a noise behind them—Siarl's voice crying out, "What—" and then a choking sound and scuffling. Aragorn half turned. "What's that?"

Sauron continue to pull him along. "It's nothing, just my men taking care of the trader Siarl."

Aragorn blinked. "Siarl's not…"

"He is, remember? He helped them capture you and even now—" someone was crying for help down the hallway "—is trying to bring you back into their grasps."

"I don't—think—" Aragorn tired again. This statement was actually very true, because Aragorn found his ability to think was very dull at the moment.

"But they've wiped your memory, dulled your senses, filled you head with false memories," Sauron said convincingly. "Don't be deceived now."

Reluctantly Aragorn allowed himself to be led down the hall.

Abruptly Siarl shouted, "DON'T, ARAGORN! IT'S A—" There was a loud thud.

Aragorn whirled around, but he couldn't see Siarl anywhere.

Sauron was pulling at his arm. "Don't worry yourself over the enemy. Come."

"But Siarl—"

"Is your enemies' hand," Sauron finished for him. "Come, hurry."

"I—"

"You will be free to visit him, of course, once we restore your memory. And we treat our captives nicely. It will not be any worse for him than it would be if he were back at his home."

"Well, I—"

"Come along, these delays are unhealthy for you in your condition."

Helplessly confused, Aragorn allowed himself to be led. He was taken to a white room, and Sauron whispered something to a man nearby. When he finished, he motioned to a chair. "Sit here, son."

Aragorn hesitantly sat.

"This man—" Sauron explained, motioning to the man he'd spoken too "—was once one of your closest friends, and is now quite eager to help with your plight. I'll leave you two alone." Then Sauron left, after saying a few more words to the man.

"What's—" Aragorn began.

"Don't worry," said the man (he was very white and kind of strange looking). "I won't hurt you."

"Who—"

"George, you once called me. We were great friends." George gave Aragorn a sad look.

"I…"

"Alright, now. Relax. This will only take a moment."

"Okay…" Aragorn said uncertainly.

George fingered some tools on a table before setting them down and walking over to Aragorn. "All I need you to do is look up here, in my eyes." Aragorn obeyed. "Now, see if you can clear your mind a little. It's too clustered up for me to help as it is now. Just think about… a calm meadow, or something calming and simple."

Aragorn pictured a nice meadow with white bunnies and daisies. He felt uncomfortable even while he was imagining it, and something told him that George was probing him. Then for some reason the meadow turned into Cerin Amroth (a hill in the middle of Lothlorien, which is where Aragorn and Arwen were engaged (though right now he didn't know that)). But the memory was blurry and shaky, and the longer George pried the worse it got.

"Wait—" Aragorn tried.

The probing ceased a moment. "Hmm?"

Aragorn could see Lorien, and then himself with Arwen. Abruptly the probe dug deeper, and Aragorn lost the memory, choking against the otherness.

"This may be uncomfortable," came George's voice, "but just bare with me. It won't last long."

Arwen disappeared suddenly, and Aragorn began to panic. Something was wrong. This wasn't supposed to be happening—

"Shh, hold still, this won't take long."

New memories—supposedly his "real" ones—began to appear: Aragorn, young, was sitting in Sauron's lap and listening to a Dr. Seuss bedtime story, Numeorian countryside, and other things.

"Almost done."

More things crowded Aragorn's mind, like being mad at the Faithful and getting a rubber chicken for his twelfth birthday.

Then Aragorn remembered a time, years ago, when he and Legolas had sat in Lorien and talked about Eru. George tried to stuff the memory away, but Aragorn fought him.

Quite suddenly Aragorn blacked out.


	6. Chess&Rubber Chickens Help Save The Day

_A/N: This is a piece of humor, written by myself and one of my good friends. If the character's are anything like canon, it's probably an accident. We don't own anyone, except Siarl, Lisa and Jo--well, and the slugs. Enjoy, laugh, and review--else I'll make you play chess with Siarl!_

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**Aragorn Gets Brainwashed  
Chapter 6.09213 : In Which Chess and Rubber Chickens Help Save the Day**

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"SPPPPSTTT!" Siarl hissed at the guard pacing outside his cell. It had been a few hours since he was thrown in, and this was the first time he could get close enough to someone to get their attention.

"What?" asked the guard.

"Have you ever played chess?" Siarl asked hopefully.

"I dare say I have," the guard—Bob—sounded haughty.

"Really?" Siarl raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Are you any good?"

Bob puffed up a little. "Rather."

"Bet you can't beat me?" Siarl taunted.

"Bet what?"

Siarl rummaged in his pockets. "Ummm… This rubber chicken."

Bob studied it a moment. "Fine. I'll bet my lunch against it." He held up a good-looking sandwich.

"Sounds good. Do you have a set?"

"I'll go get it." Bob ran off and returned after about ten minutes.

Siarl had sat on the floor and rolled his eyes when Bob finally got back. "That took forever. Did you stop at Blockbuster?"

"No. I went to make myself another sandwich."

Siarl was surprised Bob hadn't looked blank at the mention of Blockbuster. Though it was odd that he had a chess set, too. Shrugging it off, Siarl said, "Come on, let's play." Bob began to set up the board. Siarl interrupted, "Um, the rook goes here, not there." He moved it.

"YOU do it, then," Bob snapped.

Siarl had it set up in five seconds. "There. You can go first."

"Okay." Bob moved.

Siarl had him checkmated in three turns. "Hand over your lunch."

Bob sputtered. "But I—you—"

"Come on," Siarl demanded. "I'm hungry."

Growling, Bob handed it through the bars separating them. "I demand a rematch! Don't eat that sandwich yet!"

"It's mine," Siarl told him. He then took a bite and set up the chess set again.

Bob huffed. "Fine. I'll bet my knife against your rubber chicken."

"Got it."

Eight moves later, Bob was once again checkmated.

"YOU—" Bob yelled.

"Knife?" Siarl held out his hand (he'd finished the sandwich). "Pay up."

Bob glared blackly (which actually had little to do with the color black) and handed over the knife.

"Care for a rematch?" Siarl asked casually. This was rather fun.

"I DO! And I'll beat you."

"Go for it," Siarl encouraged kindly. They played again, and, for fun, Siarl pretended to be at Bob's level for about five minutes. Then he got bored of making stupid moves and checkmated him again.

Bob leapt up angrily.

"I want your nametag," Siarl announced.

Bob seemed taken by surprise. "…What?"

"For a souvenir," Siarl explained. "Your nametag. I just won, I get something."

Furious, Bob shoved the nametag at Siarl. The latter pocked it. Bob crossed his arms.

"So, what else do you want to give me?" Siarl asked.

"I don't HAVE anything left," Bob said grumpily.

Siarl suggested, "Keys?"

"I'm not betting my KEYS!" snapped Bob.

"If you win this match," Siarl assured, "you can have everything back." Bob grumbled for a minute. "Well?" Siarl pressed.

"FINE." Crossly Bob reset the chessboard (this took a minute because he kept knocking down pieces in his frustration).

Siarl rolled his eyes. Eight minutes later Bob had lost. After throwing the keys at Siarl, the guard stalked off. Siarl smirked and waited until he was gone, then let himself out. "Dweeb," he muttered. Then he went to find Aragorn.

After shouting Aragorn's name a few times with no success, Siarl approached one of the soldiers (why no one was arresting him and throwing him back in prison, we don't know—we can only assume that the soldiers weren't as clever as Sauron). "Hey, random dude!" Siarl got his attention. "Where's Sauron's son?"

The guard blinked at him. "…Um… In his chambers, I think." This guard's name was Clarence. Clarence's eye caught on Siarl's rubber chicken (it's head was sticking out of his pocket). "Is that a rubber chicken?" he asked with interest.

"Yeah. You can have it if you tell me where I can find his chambers," Siarl promised.

"YAY!" Clarence cried joyfully. All his friends had abandoned him because HE didn't have a rubber chicken, and everyone who's anyone has a rubber chicken, so now he'd be popular again. Clarence pointed. "That way! It has a sign on it that says Denis's Room: KEEP OUT. It shouldn't be hard to find."

"Okay, thanks." Siarl gave Clarence the rubber chicken and ran off. He could hear Clarence cry out happy, and upon glancing back he saw the guard playing happily with the chicken on the floor. Shaking his head, Siarl hurried on.

The trip to Aragorn's room was just about as complicated as working one's way through one's Algebra book, considering that soldiers ran after him at one point, there was a chase scene, he finally jumped into the garbage shoot and ended up in a room where a slimy monster lurked under piles of banana peals, and he was almost squished by the walls which closed in on him. Luckily he figured out the door wasn't locked a few minutes before he was pressed flat, and he escaped. In short, his trek can be summed up in one sentence: Finally he found the room and pounded on the door.

An alarm started beeping.

"Blast," cursed Siarl. _LET ME IN YOU FREAK. _

"GO AWAY," shouted Aragorn. "I'M BUSY. –Wait. I did order a pizza three hours ago…"

"That's it!" Siarl grabbed the chance. "I've got the pizza!"

"Oh, finally. Come in."

After trying the door again, Siarl said, "Um, the door's locked and bolted and has an alarm going off."

"Sorry," came Aragorn's voice. "I'll fix that." There were some noises from inside the room. "Oh, step back," Aragorn added, "the door's going to explode."

Siarl blinked twice, then stepped back. "Okay, I'm safe."

Door: explodes.

"Okay, you can come in now."

Siarl looked at the smoldering rubble. "Uh…" He walked through the nonexistent door into Aragorn's room.

Aragorn was lounged on a couch. He studied Siarl confusedly. "…Where's the pizza?"

"It's, uh, it's…" Siarl fumbled. "Drat! They don't even HAVE pizza here, Aragorn!"

Aragorn's face remained blank. "Who's Aragorn?"

"_You_ are," Siarl told him. "Your real name is Aragorn, not Denis."

The ranger blinked. "…Um. Riiight."

"Really! Sauron's brainwashed you and stolen your memories and if we don't do something he's going to take over the world!"

Aragorn stared. Then he burst out laughing. Wiping tears from his eyes, he said, "I saw an alien movie like that once."

"HOW ON EARTH DID YOU SEE A MOVIE IF YOU'VE LIVED HERE YOUR WHOLE LIFE?" Siarl demanded. "Do you see any DVD players around here?"

Mutely Aragorn pointed to a TV and DVD player in one corner.

Blinking, Siarl tried to digest this new information. "Where on earth…?"

Aragorn shrugged.

A new and horrible thought enter Siarl's overtaxed mind. "YOU DIDN'T LOOSE THE PORTAL, DID YOU?"

"…What portal?" Aragorn asked, looking lost.

"GAH!" Siarl began to search his pockets desperately, muttering minor curses the whole way. He couldn't find it.

Aragorn watched him in silence a few minutes. "…Who ARE you and why are you bothering me?" he asked. "Drat, I wish the door wasn't in charred shards on the floor," he muttered as an after-thought.

"I'm Siarl Finish, and you're Aragorn, but you don't remember that, and we're stuck on this stupid island—it is an island isn't it?—because we used the portal to try to get to Lisa's house so we could save this guy, Faramir's, life because he was bleeding to death in Lisa's livingroom. But Sauron's brainwashed you and I CAN'T FIND THE STUPID PORTAL," Siarl explained.

Aragorn's eyes looked glazed over. "Um. You lost me."

Taking a deep breath, Siarl tried again. "In a nutshell: I'm trying to save our skins and I can't do it without the portal. It looks like a remote control, if you know what that is."

"If you're looking for the remote, it's by the DVD player," Aragorn offered.

Siarl preformed a search of the room. "It's not here. This stinks."

"Please go find me the pizza guy so I can eat," requested Aragorn.

Walking to a wall, Siarl proceeded to bang his head against it. "Ouch. That didn't help."

Aragorn stared at him. "I think you're a little bit…um…psychotic."

"THAT'S IT!" Siarl cried. "We need to get you a psychiatrist!"

"…WHAT?"

Siarl was beside himself with this new idea. "Then you'll remember!" He paused, thinking. "But there isn't one here—least not one that'll help." After considering this a minute, he cheered up again. "I know! I'll do it!" (A reviewer commented: "YOU WILL MAKE THE WORST PSYCHIATRIST EVER." Which is the truth, in view that Siarl was rather in need of a psychiatrist himself.) "Do you have any paper and pens?"

"Yeah…" Aragorn opened a drawer.

Siarl grabbed up a few pieces of paper and pens, scribbling on the paper quickly. "Okay, now sit in that chair."

Aragorn looked at the chair that Siarl motioned to. "Where'd that come from?"

"I dunno," Siarl shrugged. "Sit."

Aragorn obediently sat. Siarl took a seat across from him and showed him the first picture. "What do you see?"

"Spots." Aragorn squinted. "It's a lip!"

"Um." Siarl showed him another picture. "Now?"

"It's a lip!"

Siarl changed the picture again. "Now?"

"It's a lip, it's a lip, it's a lip lip lip…" sang Aragorn.

"STOP IT. YOU'RE FREAKING ME OUT." Siarl took a deep breath and tried to regain himself. "Okay, why don't you tell me _whose _lip it is?"

Aragorn stared at him. "Umm… I'm hungry. Do you have any cucumbers?"

"No." Siarl set down the papers. Another idea down the drain. He tried a different approach. "Look, does the name 'Arwen' ring any bells?"

"I think I saw a movie like that once."

"What?"

"Someone named Arwen. In a movie. There's not much to do around here. I watch a lot of movies."

"Oh. What about someone you knew named Arwen?"

Aragorn contemplated this a moment. "No."

"Gosh, that's just sad. You're engaged to her. Wait, maybe you're married already. I don't remember."

Aragorn blinked. "Um, no."

"Um, yeah, you are," Siarl said sarcastically. "Okay, how about Fellowship, Gandalf, Gollum, Frodo, Sam, One Ring…"

"Isn't that a comic book or something?" Aragorn asked.

"No—I mean, I don't think so." Siarl shook his head. "What about Eowyn? Pippin?"

Aragorn had an involuntary spasm. "Suddenly I feel like being sick and nervous for no good reason."

"Really?" Siarl asked excitedly. "That's a good sign."

"…REALLY," Aragorn said skeptically.

"Yeah. Eowyn used to make you eat disgusting stuff and she stalked you. And Pippin… erm, Pippin is… um… He needs help," Siarl put it simply.

"DANDELIONS!" Aragorn cried suddenly. "AGH!"

"You know, there's dandelions on Sauron's chamber doors. I wonder if they have a connection…" He shook his head, trying to get rid of that disturbing image. "Erm. Okay. So…"

The questioning continued for about fifteen minutes with no success. Then the pizza man showed up.

"FINALLY!" Aragorn cried, jumping up. "Where have you been?"

"Crocodiles," the man said simply. He was soaking wet.

"Oh…" muttered Aragorn.

"What?" Siarl asked.

"We have a moat," Aragorn explained. "Dad must have forgotten to put down the drawbridge again."

"DAD?" Siarl cried. He then gagged. Aragorn glared at him, then took the pizza from the man and went to eat it. "Hey, pizza guy, where are you from?" Siarl asked curiously.

"Downtown."

"Downtown where?"

"Ecch," muttered Aragorn in the background. "This pizza's kind of wet."

The pizza man and Siarl ignored Aragorn. The pizza man looked at Siarl strangely. "Armenelos."

"Oh. Drat. You're not like Papa John's or something?"

"What?" cried the pizza guy. "My father's name is Roger!"

Siarl rolled his eyes helplessly. "Nothing. Never mind. Go away."

The man left.

Siarl went and sat across from Aragorn (who was devouring his pizza). Absently he took out his comfort chess piece, a queen which he always carried with him, and played with it.


	7. Beanie Babies&Slugs Don't Help

_A/N: This is a piece of humor, written by myself and one of my good friends. If the characters are anything like canon, it's probably an accident. We don't own anyone, except Siarl, Lisa and Jo--well, and the slugs. Enjoy, laugh, and review--else I'll make you play chess with Siarl!_

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**Aragorn Gets Brainwashed  
Chapter 7.43521 : In Which Beanie Babies and Slugs Do NOT Help Save The Day  
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"Heyfunnel cakes…" Aragorn murmured.

Siarl looked up quickly. "What?" Two funnel cakes had just appeared on the table in front of them. They reminded Siarl on an incident a little while ago when he and Aragorn were sent to save a spotted horse named Hidalgo—though they mostly only looked for the horse in the funnel cake stand and wave pool of the amusement park they were in.

"For some reason, looking at them makes me feel as if there's something really, really important that I should be doing," Aragorn mused.

"Oh yeah!" cried Siarl. He grabbed up one of the funnel cakes and shoved it into Aragorn's lap. "Look deep into it."

"Um… WHY?" Aragorn asked. He added, "Smells nice…"

"Yes, it does. Just look at it, okay? And think about spotted horses."

Aragorn stared at him for a few minutes. "You are a strange, strange individual."

"You are a sad, sad little man," Siarl retorted. "Start staring."

"Hey!"

"Well you are!"

Aragorn huffed exasperatedly.

Siarl slumped back and sighed. Then a new idea hit him. "Hey! Do you remember Brego?"

"It's a pasta sauce," Aragorn said without blinking.

"IT'S A HORSE. Your horse."

"Oh. Sorry. Sheesh, you're touchy."

"Go figure," Siarl said hopelessly. "I'm stuck here with a memory-deprived ranger."

Aragorn rolled his eyes. "I remember just fine, thank you." He began to eat the funnel cake happily.

"This is ridiculous," Siarl moaned. Then a voice seemed to whisper in his ear, _Knock him on the head really hard._ This sounded like as good an idea as anything else, so Siarl promptly grabbed a two-by-four which appeared in his head and hit Aragorn with it.

"OW! What was that for?" Then Aragorn fell on the floor and lost consciousness.

"Oops." Siarl looked over the ranger sprawled on the carpet. "I didn't mean to hit him _that _hard…" He got down beside Aragorn and shook him. "Um, Aragorn?"

"Sidlhgisdgfh," was the reply. Aragorn didn't seem to have woken up.

Siarl saw a tub of cold water by the table, and dragged Aragorn to it. He proceeded to dunk his friend into the water.

Aragorn came up sputtering and gasping. "Argh! Where are we? What are you DOING?"

Siarl blinked. "You remember?"

"Remember WHAT?" asked Aragorn, shaking his wet arms. "WHY AM I WET?" He spotted the table. "…Oh, pizza. Thank goodness, I'm famished."

"YES!" cried Siarl. He then did an Irish jig out of sheer joy. "I can't believe it worked!"

Aragorn stared at him. "Um…" He began to back away slowly.

"Sauron brainwashed you and you thought you where his son and you wouldn't believe me so I hit you and you fainted and I dunked you and now you remember!" explained Siarl.

Aragorn still stared at him. "Siarl, I think you've gone crazy. That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! …Although I do think I remember seeing a movie like that once."

"IT'S TRUE! And now he's probably looking for me because I got out of prison by playing chess and trading a rubber chicken. We've got to get out of here."

Aragorn blinked. "Um, right. Good idea. Do you have the portal?"

"No, you had it," Siarl told him, "before Sauron brainwashed you. And it needs new batteries."

Aragorn began search his pockets. Though he revealed chocolate and globs of goop (he had to hide Eowyn's food somewhere) there was no portal. "Not here."

"Blast it," Siarl muttered. "They must have taken it."

"Oh GOODY."

"Really. And Sauron won't be happy when he realizes you remember."

"ARGH," groaned Aragorn. "Yeah, let's get out of here."

Siarl looked around. "Okay. Do you remember anything from your false memories about where to go?"

"Where to go for where?" Aragorn asked confusedly.

"Where to go from here to—uh—I don't know, get out of Denis's room."

"Is there even a real Denis?"

"No, you're Denis. Sorta." He shook his head. "Never mind."

"Joy," muttered Aragorn (sarcastically).

"Anyway. The point is: We need to get out of here before Sauron sends someone to check on you."

"Good point," Aragorn agreed. "Especially considering how horribly ironic it'd be if you went to all this trouble and then we died."

Siarl hit himself, wondering how Aragorn ever did anything on his own. "Come on." He started walking.

They walked for about ten minutes, going pretty much nowhere, as neither of them had any idea where they were trying to get to.

Siarl stared at the wall he'd almost run into. "Dead end! Just my luck!" He looked at the ceiling and shouted, "I JUST WANT TO GO HOME AND PLAY CHESS FOR GOODNESS SAKE!"

"…," Aragorn said.

Siarl began to stalk back the way they came. He was having a bad day.

"Hey," Aragorn stopped him, "that looks like a tunnel or something over there." He pointed.

A ray of hope shot into Siarl's hopeless self. Then he dashed against rocks, because he had just remembered another depressing thought: They didn't know where the portal was, and that was a vital key to getting home. Then he thought of another thing, and asked Aragorn, "Do you think we should probe or something to find the portal first?"

"…Maybe," Aragorn considered. "Can we find it that way?"

"You should be able to. Want me to try or do you want to?"

"You try," Aragorn decided. "I'm feeling rather exhausted. (Probably because you WHALLOPED me over the head.)"

"It was for you own good," Siarl told him. He then attempted to feel for the portal mentally. "Okay. Sauron's got it in his treasure vault thing."

"Weird. I hope he hasn't figured out how to use it."

"You _did _have a TV in your room," Siarl pointed out.

"…Oh GOODY."

Siarl observed, "You say that a lot." He continued, "So, we have to get into the treasure room… Oh great. Do you suppose Sauron didn't just block yours memories, but he stole them? So now he knows about the Fellowship and all."

"Oh GREAT. That would be kind of rotten."

"So we have to get the portal, AND somehow brainwash Sauron, and then get back and save Faramir's life."

"Yaaaay. I'm so excited," said Aragorn. (He actually wasn't excited. He was being sarcastic again.)

"Let's go," Siarl said. They then ran off to the treasure room, which oddly wasn't guarded.

"That is odd," Aragorn muttered.

Siarl tried the door. "Drat. Locked. Do you have any keys?"

Aragorn felt in his pocket. "Weirdly, I do. No idea where they came from…" He handed them to Siarl.

None of them worked. Siarl pulled out his chess piece.

"Um… that's not a key," Aragorn pointed out.

Siarl shrugged. "It's worth a try." He stuck it in the lock and turned.

The door opened.

"…ookaaaaaaayyy…" Aragorn was officially freaked out.

"Awesome!" Siarl pocketed his chess piece and entered.

"That was just plan weird," Aragorn muttered, following.

They entered a golden room with a high ceiling and beautiful pink dandelions painted across the walls and roof. Siarl and Aragorn both stopped, staring at the vast riches before them… But the riches didn't stop at gold and silver. On the right wall was a nine feet deep pile of TY Beanie Babies.

"Wow," whispered Siarl, in awe.

"WOW," shouted Aragorn. "He's COLLECTOR." Aragorn ran to the Beanie Babies and waded through them. He grabbed a dotted green cat and held it up for Siarl to see. "They don't even MAKE these anymore!"

Siarl eyed it warily. "It's scary looking."

Aragorn began happily searching the pile of animals for more rarities.

"Um, I think we should look for the portal before something bad happens," Siarl reminded him.

Sighing regretfully, Aragorn made his way out of the ocean of small stuffed creatures. "Okay, fine." He turned to look back at the toys. "Darn, I suppose we're going to have to swim through these animals to find it. Or something."

"I'll look by the gold and stuff," Siarl offered, walking to the other side of the room.

"You would," muttered Aragorn sarcastically. Siarl ignored him and rummaged through the treasures, pocketing a few small things. "SIARL!" Aragorn cried accusingly.

"He won't miss anything!" Siarl argued. Aragorn rolled his eyes. They continued to search for a few minutes. "Oh!" shouted Siarl. "I think I see it!"

"Really?" Aragorn sprung over with a Beanie Baby in his hand.

Siarl was pulling at something hidden behind some expensive gold man. Quite suddenly he went white and screamed, "GREAT SCOTT!"

"…" blinked Aragorn. "What? Who the plague is Scott?"

"I DON'T KNOW BUT THERE'S A SLUG EATING THE OTHER END OF THE PORTAL!" (Siarl is a bit paranoid of slugs, as they have a rather unsettling liking to him—for food.)

"Oh. That's bad," commented Aragorn. "Wait, a slug? That's profoundly ironic, considering."

"AHHH!" screamed Siarl again. "IT'S GOT MY HAND!" He jumped away from the statue, a huge slug clamped around his hand.

"Eeeew!" Aragorn began hitting at it with his Beanie Baby. "Wait, that was stupid," he realized. He pulled out his knife and chopped the poor slug up.

Siarl shook slug guts off his hand. "Disgusting!"

"Very much so. I wonder why Sauron was keeping one of THOSE?"

Siarl picked up the portal and wiped it off. It didn't look like it had been damaged too badly. He glanced up again and yelped. "There's another one—and over there too!"

"ACK!" said Aragorn. He started hacking at a swarm of them that slid toward him and Siarl. "Wait, maybe we should just GET OUT OF HERE NOW."

"Agreed!" Siarl dashed for the door but was cut off by more hungry slugs.

Aragorn found that somehow in the action he had acquired the portal. "GET US OUT OF HERE NOW," he yelled at it. He jabbed at the button.

"Chooocolate!" the portal whined in a high voice. "MUST HAVE CHOCOLATE!"

Aragorn discovered a pile of chocolate at his elbow. "HERE!"

"Battery low," it announced while devouring the chocolate.

"Just GO, you stupid thing!"

"Fine," the portal grumbled. There was a burst of pink light and a certain blond teenager who is known for her show on Disney Channel and her many movies began to sing. Aragorn and Siarl cried out in pain and covered their ears. Then they were dumped on a cold stone floor.

"That was horrible," Siarl muttered. "Where are we?"

"I…don't know," said Aragorn, looking around.

"What are you doing out of your room, Denis?" said a familiar voice.

"OH GREAT." Sauron was frowning at them, standing just a few feet away. "Um. I…need food."

"You have pizza in your room," Sauron reminded him. "Why are you holding a Beanie Baby?"

"I ate it," Aragorn said.

"…Pardon?"

"The pizza. I ate it. It's gone."

"Oh. Where's the Beanie Baby from?" Sauron repeated.

"Um. I just got it in the mail."

"Why is this traitor with you?" Sauron continued, glancing at Siarl.

"Because I'm going to eat him." _Wow, that was the stupidest excuse I have ever made up. Ever._


	8. Stupidity Abounds

_A/N: This is a piece of humor, written by myself and one of my good friends. If the characters are anything like canon, it's probably an accident. We don't own anyone, except Siarl, Jrohest, Lisa and Jo. Enjoy, laugh, and review--else I'll sick the slugs after you!_

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**Aragorn Gets Brainwashed  
Chapter 8.4521: Stupidity Abounds, And The Trials Of The Characters Are Basically Pointless**

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"Um." Sauron looked at Aragorn oddly. "Give me your sword, you're going to hurt yourself with it."

"I will NOT," Aragorn proclaimed.

"Denis, don't argue," Sauron instructed. "Give me the sword."

"No. I need it to cut stuff."

"Like what?"

"Rope. Felt. Cake."

"Let the servants do that," Sauron advised, beginning to get sick of his new son.

"I _like_ cutting cake!"

"Use a fork," he said sternly. "Give me the sword."

"You can't cut cake with a fork!" Aragorn cried, shocked.

"JUST GIVE ME THE SWORD."

Aragorn threw his precious cat Beanie Baby at Sauron. "THINK FAST!" he shouted at Siarl before he fled out the door. Siarl jumped after him.

"GET THEM," ordered Sauron.

"Blast, I can't believe I threw away that Beanie Baby," Aragorn lamented as they ran. "I could have got hundreds for that."

"Wait," Sauron thought, watching them go down the hallway. He realized his previous order was stupid. "That's stupid." Voice-commanding, he shouted, "STOP AND COME BACK HERE."

Siarl skidded to a stop, unable to resist the command.

Aragorn whirled around. "SIARL!"

"OH BLAST IT," Siarl cried in despair, feeling himself begin to walk back to Sauron. "Quick! Take the portal, get home, and then send someone after me."

"What?" cried Aragorn. "But Sauron might do anything to—OW!" At that moment a rubber chicken hit him in the face.

"Where's that come from?" Siarl asked, looking around.

"I don't know," muttered Aragorn, watching the chicken suspiciously. "I don't know if I want to know. Were there some of these in the vault?"

Siarl took another step toward Sauron. "I don't know. TAKE THE PORTAL!"

Aragorn grabbed the portal and dialed the code from home.

"Low battery, you dweeb," announced the portal. "Chocolate!"

Aragorn obediently fed the portal some of his left over chocolate.

"Battery," the portal reminded him. Aragorn ran for the vault, hoping the slugs were gone and there were some batteries. "Baaaatttterrryy dyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyinnnnnnnnggggggggggggggggggggggggg," the portal wailed.

Aragorn rushed into the vault and stumbled over a large stack of Double C (2C) batteries. Quickly he stuffed some into the portal, running from the hungry slugs that instantly were after him. "Wow, there are strange things in this vault," he muttered, redialing the code.

Poof. He was in Lisa's livingroom again.

"OHMYGOSHWHATTHEHECKTOOKSOLONG?" Lisa screamed at him. She was seated on the couch eating chips and watching _Pride&Prejudice_.

"We got captured and I lost my memory and stuff," Aragorn explained.

"Whatever," Lisa said, turning off the TV. "Faramir's in the hospital. We gave up on waiting three hours ago."

"Oh. Well." Aragorn paused a moment to consider this. "…Do you mean there was NO POINT TO THIS AT ALL?"

"Well, basically," Lisa said impassively. "Where's Siarl?"

"Sauron's got him. He told me to send somebody over. YOU MEAN I LOST MY MEMORY AND SIARL GOT CAPTURED BY SAURON FOR NO REASON WHATSOEVER!"

"Well, if you guys had hurried up there would have been a reason," Lisa retorted.

"We couldn't hurry up! We got captured! If you could've taken Faramir to the hospital, why did you send us in the first place?" Aragorn was feeling unjustly abused.

"Because the hospital asked a lot of questions about why he looked like he'd been whipped and why he was wearing Gondorian stuff." Aragorn rolled his eyes. "We had to say he was Tim from a reenactment," Lisa explained.

"Oh, and that was SO much more difficult and traumatizing than BEING BRAINWASHED INTO THINKING YOU'RE SAURON'S SON!"

"…What the heck? What've you been reading? Obviously too many soap operas. But, you know, I saw a movie like that once…"

"It's true!" Aragorn protested.

"Sauron's a big eye. He can't brainwash you," Lisa informed Aragorn. "What happened to Siarl again?"

"He's not a big eye. We were in Armenelos in the Second Age!" Aragorn added carelessly, "Anyway, Sauron's got Siarl. And my Beanie Baby."

Lisa stared at him. "Wait—huh? WHY DID YOU LEAVE SIARL WHEN YOU HAD THE PORTAL?"

"Because Sauron was pulling him back with voice command."

"YOU COULD HAVE JUST PORTALED BOTH OF YOU, YOU FREAK." She threw her hands in the air despairingly. "GREAT. My second-main character is somewhere in Numenor with Sauron."

"Sorry. He's probably happier there than he is in your story, though," Aragorn pointed out, which is actually true.

"HEY," Lisa shouted (both at Aragorn and the narrator of this tale). "I take that as an insult."

Aragorn shrugged. "It's true."

"So who's going back for him?"

"Why don't you?" Aragorn suggested harmlessly.

"Because _I'm_ not the one who left him, mister."

"He TOLD me to leave him," Aragorn protested, again.

"AND YOU BELIEVED HIM?" Lisa proceeded to hit herself and wonder what the world was coming to.

"Wait, what?"

"Don't you know that he has the stupidest ideas on the planet?"

"Well, yeah, maybe…" Aragorn admitted slowly, "…just what do you think he's trying to do?"

Lisa plopped herself back on the couch. "I think he probably thought he was doing something vastly heroic while in fact he was doing something incredibly dumb. It happens often enough."

"Oh. Goody," muttered Aragorn.

"So do you want to take someone with you when you go back for him or just go on your own," Lisa said, not really asking a question.

"I'm not going back there all alone!" Aragorn cried.

"Fine. Who are you taking?"

"I don't know! I'm exhausted!"

"Well hurry up and go get him." Lisa picked up her chips again.

"Him? Who's him?"

"SIARL," Lisa snapped.

"Oh. Get somebody to help me! I can't fight Sauron all on my lonesome!" To himself, he moaned, "Eurgh, did I really just say that? I sound like a cowboy."

"Fine. Uhhh…" Lisa looked around. "I think Jrohest's around here."

Jrohest, an extraordinarily wonderful character from one of Lisa's books who had blue dreamy eyes and was very sensible (normally), appeared at hearing his name. "What?" he asked, glancing uncertainly at Aragorn.

"Go with Aragorn and save Siarl. And don't get hurt," Lisa instructed.

"Uh, okay," Jrohest said, slightly confused.

"…Um. Yeah," Aragorn added helpfully.

"Get a move on it, Aragorn!" Lisa snapped.

Aragorn obediently dialed.

"CHOCOLATE!" screamed the portal.

Jrohest jumped visibly. "That thing just talked!"

"Yeah, it's kind of obnoxious." Aragorn gave it chocolate.


	9. ShieldmaidenOnlyHope,Casualties're Made

_A/N: This is a piece of humor, written by myself and one of my good friends. If the characters are anything like canon, it's probably an accident. We don't own anyone, except Siarl, Jrohest, Lisa and Jo. Enjoy, laugh, and review--else I'll make you eat Eowyn's ice cream!  
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**Aragorn Gets Brainwashed  
Chapter 9.21345: In Which, Unfortunately, A Shieldmaiden Is The Only Hope, And Casualties Are Made**

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"So, what do we do?" asked Jrohest, looking around after just arriving in Numenor.

"Find Siarl and rescue him from Sauron," Aragorn answered. "Somehow."

"Alright. Do you know where Siarl is?"

"Not, not really… he's probably not in the same prison he was in before, and I didn't even know where THAT one was."

Jrohest grabbed the arm of a soldier passing them. "Hey, we're tourists here and we want to see the famous new-comer—Snarl or something. Do you know where he is?"

"Oh, he's being executed at dawn," the man replied.

"Why is EVERYONE ALWAYS executed at DAWN!" Aragorn wondered loudly.

"And the curse/blessing always ends/begins at midnight," Jrohest put in. "Someday something important should happen at noon."

"Ugh. This place is swarming with clichés." Aragorn wiped off his sleeve as if he could cleanse himself.

Jrohest slaughtered the clichés with his sword. "There. Better."

Aragorn stared. "Um. How on EARTH can you slaughter clichés with a sword?"

The soldier stared too.

"Talent," Jrohest said carelessly, wiping off his sword and sheathing it. "Let's find Siarl."

"…Why do you want to find him?" asked the soldier, whose name was Freddimunchinickle (commonly known as Freddy).

Jrohest mistakenly thought it was Aragorn who asked and answered, "So we can rescue him before dawn."

Aragorn wedged his elbow into Jrohest's ribs. "Don't tell the GUARD that!" he whispered.

Jrohest now had realized his mistake. "He didn't hear. See, he's looking at us blankly like we're freaks."

"Aren't we?" Aragorn asked.

"Pretty much," Jrohest acknowledged. "The point is I blocked his hearing so he doesn't know."

"Oh. Well, do unblock it before we leave, or he'll freak out wondering why he suddenly went deaf."

"Okay. Done." To Freddimunchinickle soldier Jrohest asked, "Hey, do you know where we can find Snarl's cell?"

"It's in the dungeons."

"Where? Exactly." Freddimunchinickle (Freddy) looked at him suspiciously. "We want his autograph—you know how valued dead people's signatures are these days?"

"Um…no…" said Freddimunchinickle hesitantly. "Wow, these new trends get creepier every day.

"Nono, it's awesome. Hey, I'll get you an autograph too so you can make big bucks if you tell us where he is."

"Uh, okay…" Freddy wrote down directions on a piece of paper.

"Gee, thanks." Jrohest took it. "I'll get one for you and see you around."

Nervously Freddy said, "Um. Yeah."

Jrohest walked off, looking over the directions. "That was easy," he commented.

"Too easy," put in Aragorn. "ARGH! CLICHÉ!"

Jrohest slaughtered it. "Let's try again: That was easy."

"Yes. Now let's get out of here."

"Better." They went to the dungeons.

"That was unnaturally quick," Aragorn said.

"It's shortened so our audience isn't bored to death," Jrohest told him.

"I'm bored to death," said Aragorn.

"Well, then you can handle the prison guards."

"Yay!" The guard, Nicklefrilzskin, was playing happily with his rubber chicken outside of the hallway leading to the cells. Aragorn put on sunglasses so he wouldn't be noticed and walked over to Nickle. "Hi," Aragorn greeted him.

Nicklefrilzskin blinked at him. "….hi…"

"Hello. Nice chicken. Does it have a name?"

"Just RC."

"Hi, RC!" Aragorn said cheerfully, patting the chicken on the head.

"HEY! DON'T TOUCH HIM!" Nicklefrilzskin screamed. He held his chicken protectively close.

Aragorn backed away. "Oh. Sorry." He handed the guard a bottle of Lysol. "You can disinfect him, if you'd like."

Nicklefrilzskin eyed it suspiciously.

"It won't hurt it—um, him," Aragorn assured. "It'll just take any germs off." _Argh. I hope I haven't just turned him into a germophobe…_

Nicklefrilzskin poured the whole bottle on RC.

"Careful! You don't want to drown him!"

Nicklefrilzskin handed back the empty bottle. "He holds his breath. What do you want anyway?"

"Oh, I was wondering about that prisoner…the traitor, or whatever. He owes me five bucks. Where's his cell?"

"Which traitor?" Nickle asked.

"There's more than one?" Aragorn puzzled. "The new one. That—Sean, or whatever his name is. Charlie?"

"Snarl?"

"Um. Yeah. I think that's it."

"Him," Nickle corrected. "It's not an it. He's in Cell 4.5 but you can't see him."

"I meant the name. Why not?"

"Because Lord Sauron said no one's supposed to see him. Especially not a brown/blue eyed, brown haired man about this tall who needs a shave and bath."

Aragorn blinked twice. "Um. Wow. I had no idea Sauron hated me that much. I NEED those five bucks!"

Nickle shrugged. "Sorry. He doesn't have any money anyway. Just some green paper."

"That IS money where I come from."

"Oh. That stinks. We burned it. Sorry."

Aragorn sighed. "You have really gone out of your way to annoy me, haven't you?"

"Not on purpose." He patted RC.

"I think I'm going to have to get rid of you," Aragorn decided.

"Wha—" Nicklefrilzskin began. At that moment Aragorn grabbed another Lysol bottle and sprayed it at him. "Gaaaaaah! MY EEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYEEEEESSSSS!"

"Sorry." Aragorn knocked him on the back of his head with the end of his sword. He then ran to find Siarl. "Oh, wait," he realized. He doubled back to the fallen Nicklefrilzskin and grabbed his keys. "It would have been really, really stupid to forget these…"

"Really," Jrohest agreed, following.

Aragorn found Siarl's cell. "Hi, Siarl!"

Siarl was playing with his chess piece but jumped up. "Aragorn! Jrohest!"

"Hey, how's it going? What've you been up to?" Aragorn asked.

"Nothing. They took all the money I stole from Sauron. Oh, then they tortured me for a few hours. That's all."

"Oh, okay. Wanna come out now?"

"Yes, please." Aragorn made a show of finding the right key. "Aragorn," Siarl said firmly. "I'm starving. I'm in pain. I want to see Mair and play chess and eat. LET ME OUT."

"Sheesh, stop _whining_." Aragorn finally found the right key and unlocked the door. "There we go."

"Finally!" Siarl came out and stretched.

"Okay," Aragorn said, "let's get out of here before a new guard shows up."

"Got it," Siarl agreed. "Hey, do we need to brainwash Sauron still?"

Aragorn moaned dramatically. "Do we HAVE to?"

"If you want the Fellowship to work," Siarl pointed out.

Aragorn sighed. "Okay, FINE."

"I'm lost," Jrohest muttered.

"LOST! SQQQQQEEEAAAA!" said a random reader.

"… Um. That's nice. Go away," said Aragorn. The reader grumbled and wandered off.

"No, how does one go about brainwashing Sauron?" Siarl wondered aloud. He pulled out _Brainwashing For Dummies. _

Aragorn peered over his shoulder. "It looks like we're supposed to make him ice cream… Gee, that sounds helpful."

Jrohest peered over Siarl's other shoulder. "Not just _any_ ice cream. Purple Gloop Made By A Rohirrim Ice Cream."

"Um. So, how can we make it if a Rohirrim's s'posed to make it?" Aragorn asked.

"Isn't Eowyn a Rohirrim?" Siarl asked thoughtfully.

"What's Rohirrim?" asked Jrohest.

Aragorn went white and red. "NO. NO, NO, AND NO."

"I really thought she was…" Siarl muttered.

"I DON'T CARE WHAT SHE IS, SHE ISN'T HELPING US!" Aragorn shouted. "Especially in a manner involving foodstuffs."

"She has too, Aragorn! SHE'S OUR ONLY HOPE!" Siarl cried.

"I have suddenly lost all will to live," Aragorn said emptily.

(An hour later….)

"Eowyn, how's it coming?" Siarl asked, looking into the kitchen.

Eowyn batted her eyelashes at Aragorn. "Oh, pretty well. Except—is ice cream _supposed _to smoke like this?"

Jrohest looked in at the smoking purple moosh. "Um. No."

"Drat!" Eowyn looked at it in a pouting way. "I think I need to start over. Again."

Siarl left to find his friend, Aldon, to talk with.

(Another hour later…)

Siarl poked his head in the kitchen. "How's it going, Eowyn?"

"Um." She smiled nervously. "Siarl, um… I really, really hope you weren't too fond of this chess set…"

(IN INCREDIABLY LARGE FONT) "WHAT!" Siarl screamed.

"The ice cream…kind of…exploded…" Eowyn explained.

"YOU KILLED MY CHESS SET?"

"Um. Basically."

Siarl fell to the ground in despair. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Jrohest blinked at Siarl.

"Um… can you stop hugging the ground and sobbing hysterically?" Eowyn asked Siarl. "It's not like I killed one of your friends or something…Is it? Oh BOY."

"He gets a little emotional about his chess sets," Jrohest explained. "Here, let me see the ice cream."

"Um. Here." Eowyn thrust the foul-smelling bowl at him.

Jrohest made a face. "We'll take it. Come on, Aragorn and Siarl."

"MYLIFEISOVER," was all Siarl said.

"We could always send you back to that cell…" Aragorn suggested.

Siarl picked himself up. "Fine. Let's go."


	10. The Finale

_A/N: This is a piece of humor, written by myself and one of my good friends. If the characters are anything like canon, it's probably an accident. We don't own anyone, except Siarl, Jrohest, Lisa and Jo. Enjoy, laugh, and review--else I'll make you eat Eowyn's ice cream!_

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**Aragorn Gets Brainwashed  
Chapter 10.34131: The Finale!**

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Jrohest portalled them back to Numenor.

"Oooh, where are we?" asked a unwelcome and unexpected feminine voice. Otherwise known as Eowyn.

"ARGH. ARGH ARGH ARGH ARGH," said Aragorn.

"Oh GREAT," moaned Jrohest.

"Oi," Siarl said. "Let's get this over with. I have to bury the remains of my chess set."

Eowyn backed away from Siarl. "I think he's a little bit crazy."

"And it took you two hours to figure that out?" Jrohest asked. He looked around. "Okay, we're in the courtyard. Someone do something stupid that will get us thrown in a room with Sauron."

"Make Eowyn do it," Aragorn grumbled. "She hasn't risked life and limb yet."

"Are you calling me _chicken_?" Eowyn demanded. Aragorn coughed meaningfully. "FINE," snapped Eowyn. She stomped over to a random guard named Timmy and stole his rubber chicken.

"HEY!" cried Timmy.

"Nice chicken. I think he'd taste wonderful with a good cheese sauce."

Timmy grabbed back the chicken. "DON'T YOU DARE—DON'T LISTEN TO HER, RUBBIE!"

Eowyn grabbed the chicken away again. "I'm taking this." She promptly ran off.

"Okay, when we said stupid, we didn't mean THAT stupid," observed Aragorn from the sidelines.

"Wow," commented Jrohest.

"Yeah."

Five minutes later they were all thrown in a room with Sauron.

"Wow," said Aragorn, "well, at least it was helpful."

Eowyn smiled smugly.

"You brought a girl with you?" asked Sauron.

"Accidentally."

"How heroic of you."

"Not really."

"That was sarcasm, Denis," Sauron told him.

"Denis?" asked Jrohest.

"Um, yeah, that was my name here," Aragorn told him.

"Oh."

Siarl stepped forward. "Hey, Sauron, do you like ice cream?"

"Ice cream?" asked Sauron, looking clueless.

Aragorn explained: "Yeah—sweet, delicious dessert made with eggs and cream and flavoring…"

"Um."

"It's very good," Aragorn added. _When it's not purple and SMOKING, anyway._

"Here, try some." Jrohest shoved the ice cream in Sauron's hands.

Sauron looked at it doubtfully.

Eowyn piped up, "I made it special. Please try it!"

Aragorn moaned and put his hands over his face.

"…" said Sauron. He tentatively ate a spoonful. Eowyn smiled happily. "Ewwwwwwww!" cried Suaron. "GAH! YUCK!" He then passed out.

"It worked!" cried Jrohest happily.

Eowyn sighed. "Why does everyone always faint after eating my food?"

"I'll give you three guesses," Aragorn said dryly. Eowyn smiled beautifully and batted her eyelashes. Aragorn looked sick. Sauron moaned and began to sit up. _Quick, Jrohest, brainwash him! _Aragorn telepathed Jrohest.

Jrohest complied. "There."

"Oi…" muttered Sauron. "Who are you people…?"

"Um. Bankers," said Aragorn.

"Wha…?" began Suaron.

"Bye," said Jrohest. He portalled them home.

"Lawyers!" cried Aragorn, a bit to late for Sauron to hear. Seeing they were in Lisa's livingroom, he shouted thankfully, "THANK GOODNESS."

Lisa looked up from reading _Hitchhikers' Guide to the Galaxy_. "Oh. Siarl. You're not dead. Good."

"That was interesting," commented Eowyn. "What did we just do?"

"He's not?" asked Jo, who appeared behind Lisa (she was referring to Lisa's comment that Siarl wasn't dead, not Eowyn's quote). She poked Siarl. "Are you sure?"

Siarl collapsed on the floor in extreme grief. (In incredibly large font, again:) "SHE KILLED MY CHESS SET!" (Larger Font:) "MY LIVE IS **_OVER_**!"

"Wow," said Jo.

"Yep. He's alive," said Lisa, going back to reading.

"Drat," muttered Jo.

"I didn't _mean_ to blow up his precious chess set," apologized Eowyn, eyeing Siarl's weeping self nervously.

Lauren, Lisa's little sister, who collected rubber chickens, entered at this moment. "HEY! Where's RC!" she shouted at everyone (RC was her Special Rubber Chicken). "SIARL, DID YOU STEAL RC AGAIN?"

Siarl picked his head off the floor, remembering how he had traded off a Certain Rubber Chicken to find Aragorn. "Oh blast," he muttered.

"Who's RC?" asked Eowyn.

"You don't want to know," Aragorn told her.

Lauren ran at Siarl with one of her many swords. He fled the room.

The End

"_Wow," said Lisa. "That was edifying."_

"_Quite," agreed Jo. "I feel as if my entire life has been profoundly affected by the whole thing."_


End file.
